Just Another Day
by yankees545
Summary: High school AU. Spencer Reid has always been the odd one out of the crowd. That is, until Emily Prentiss moved to Vegas. They immediately became friends. She is a light in his world. However, his world is still very dark... my 1st story review please!:
1. Chapter 1

_Ok, so this is my first story, I don't know if I'm going to add to it or if it's just going to be a oneshot, reviews are welcome! Please be gentle, this is my first story as I have said and it's un-betaed. Consturctive critisism is welcome, I'm eager to improve. **Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable!**_

Just Another Day

Chapter 1

Just another day in 11 year old Spencer Reid's wonderful life... It was Saturday and most kids his age were spending their days outside, playing baseball, basketball or some other activity ending in 'ball.' But no, that wasn't an option for him, not today. He couldn't even go to the library today, the marks were too visible.

He was currently in the bathroom, looking in the mirror at the newest marks left by the back of his father's hand that he had earned after leaving crumbs on the counter after lunch. 'Well, it's a good thing it's not Sunday!' He thought to himself with a grimace. He hated the looks his teachers gave him. Full of pity yet they did absolutely nothing to help him! Not even when the abuse happened right in front of their eyes, at lunch or during break. They didn't _really_ care, not enough to do anything about it. Nobody did. Nobody, except Emily.

Emily had moved to Las Vegas in October. All of the social groups for the year had already been established. It was basically the same as the year before. Of course, Spencer was a group of one. He was the target of everyone, and everyone blamed him for anything that happened. That is, until Emily had arrived. Being a diplomat's daughter automatically singled her out as strange. The group of one became a group of two. Emily didn't seem to mind that Spencer was brilliant and borderline autistic. She liked him exactly how he was, sweet, non-judgmental, sympathetic, and absolutely oblivious to it all. He didn't understand why she chose to be friends with him, but it was something truly good in his life and he knew from past experiences that it could end any day, so he treasured it while it lasted. She was the light in the dark, even though she couldn't help him sometimes, it was a comfort just to know that somebody cared that he was still breathing.

But that was another reason he hated weekends. He wouldn't see her for 64 hours straight if you counted the time after school on Friday and the time before school Monday. He had gotten comfortable around her, he trusted her, but when she wasn't around he was alone. He hated being alone, it was one of his greatest fear, right up there next to the dark. And elevators. And Schizophrenia. And. And. And... He tried not to think about it a whole lot. Emily was strong and protected her friends. In this cases, her friends consisted of Spencer. When she was around, he was relatively safe. When she wasn't, things got 10 times worse. So they spent as much time as possible together, not boy friend and girl friend as everyone teased, just really good friends. She hated seeing him hurt and worried when she couldn't be around. And she had good reasons to worry, between school bullies and his negligent/abusive father, he was always a myriad of bruises or scrapes. And that was just the physical damage. That was all he let her know about, he didn't offer many details. He trusted her, but he still didn't want her to know the whole story. He knew there was nothing she could do about it and it would hurt her to know. And, if he was honest with himself, he thought he was being slightly selfish by not telling her the full story. He didn't want her to stop being his friend, he didn't want to be abandoned, not again.

He remembered life before Emily, how could he not? He never wanted to go back to that. He shook himself and finished his examination of his face. He silently left the bathroom and padded back to his bedroom, hoping that he wouldn't be noticed and that he would have the chance to spend the rest of the day in peace. He got to his room without incident and closed the door behind him with a sigh of relief. He turned around and jumped back, stifling a yelp. He dad was standing by the foot of his bed. He turned around and tried to open the door but his hands were shaking too badly.

"Spennncer... Where do you think you're going?" His father whispered in his ear, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"Pl-please leave me alone. What d-did I do?" He asked the floor in a barely audible voice.

"You didn't clean your room!" His father hissed.

Spencer looked up quickly and surveyed his room, looking for what he had missed. He didn't see anything out of place.

"Wh-what do y-you mean?" He asked timidly, trying to be as small as physically possible.

His dad roughly dragged him over to the side of his bed and shoved him down to the ground. Spencer could see that his sheets weren't tucked in properly. He wondered how he had missed that as he gulped and started shaking harder.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, 'm sorry!" He repeated over and over again very softly. His dad ignored him.

"Pl-please d-don't hurt me! I-I'll try harder!" He pleas fell on deaf ears as his father pulled him up by his arm, holding him hard enough to leave bruises. He led him to the basement staircase.

"No no no no no no no! Please! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll do better! I swear!" His voice rose 2 octaves. His dad again ignoring him, shoved him down the short flight of stairs onto the basement floor.

"SHUT UP! You chose to disobey me, now MAN UP and face the consequences! Stop crying!" He got down to the base of the stairs and again dragged Spencer to his feet. He tried to be strong. He tried to get away. He tried to stop the tears.

"When. Will. You. LEARN!" His father punctuated each word with a smack or a kick to his face, torso, or legs. Spencer couldn't stop the tears. He father continued hitting him.

"Help! Mom! Save me! Pleeease!" He cried out above his sobs. If it was possible, his father started to hit him harder, fire in his eyes.

"She is DEAD! She hated her life, this town! She. Hated. YOU!" Spencer cried harder, his slight frame shaking with every pained breath. He missed her so much! His father finally let him go. He fell to the floor still shaking. With one final kick to Spencer's ribs his father left.

"I hope you have learned your lesson." his father sneered down to him as he ascended the staircase, not looking back. When he got to the top, he hit the lights and closed the door, plunging the basement into complete darkness. Spencer whimpered in the total darkness. He tried to move even though it hurt to breathe, to cry. His legs wouldn't obey him. He had no choice but to lie there, in the dark, totally alone. He felt so weak! Why was he always so weak? He curled up into himself, trying to be as small as possible. He couldn't wait for Monday. He needed his friend. He desperately needed someone to tell him that it would be OK, that things would get better. He finally succumbed to unconsciousness on his basement floor, with a picture of Emily's caring, smiling face in his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Wow, reviews have been really quick! So here's the part that I had started earlier today, this won't be a normal thing, two updates in a day but, I had it done, so why not post it? Thanks for the words of encouragement! Again, I own nothing!_

Sunday passed almost without incident. The day had started pretty tamely. He woke up when his dad grabbed his arm and yanked him up the stairs. He dad pushed him into the bathroom, locking him in, and informing Spencer that he would be going out for a while. He said he wouldn't be back till late. Spencer conceded out loud, not that it mattered one way or another.

After he heard his father leave the house he attempted to jump up and do a little celebratory dance. He was safe for the day! He quickly decided that that was a bad idea. He realized how very sore he was, both from the beating and the subsequent night on the floor. He decided that it would be best if he didn't do anything too physical, and besides that, what could he do in a bathroom that was physical anyway?

Spencer took a quick shower and examined the damage from the previous day. It wasn't the worst ever, but the bruises would still take time for them to heal. His wrist and ankle hurt from how he landed at the bottom of the stairs but from past experience he knew they weren't broken. He redressed in the spare set of clothes that he always kept in the bathroom.

He gently lowered himself to the floor and began to recite the Harry Potter series from memory to pass the time. He finished that at about noon. He acknowledged his growing hunger and realized the cause, he hadn't eaten since lunch the previous day, and that had been interrupted. 'I've gone longer, I'll be fine. The average person can survive for a about a week without food before they start shutting down. It's only been 25 hours, 7 minutes, and 23, 24, 25... seconds.' He reassured himself.

To take his mind off of his growing hunger, he began to translate the Harry Potter series into Latin. When he was about half way through the 5th book, at about 8:45-9, he heard his dad's truck pull into the drive way. He heard the door to the truck open and close, his father came in the front door, and into the kitchen. Spencer heard plates and cabinets being moved and opened. He heard his father's footsteps continue to the bathroom and he unlocked the door. Spencer had stood up, fighting light-headedness and backed to the far side of the bathroom.

His father opened the door, saw Spencer in the corner, he shook his head, left a plate with a sandwich on it on the bathroom counter and closed the door again.

"Coward." He heard his father mutter as he walked away. Spencer went to the door, tried to open it. He wasn't surprised to find it locked. He didn't even try to force it open, he knew it wouldn't why waste the energy? It wasn't logical. So instead of fighting it, he accepted the fact that he would be stuck in the small room for the night. He looked at the sandwich his father had left. He quickly grabbed it and took a couple big bites before he could talk himself out of it. When he was half done with the sandwich, he slowed down and decided to save the rest of it for later, he had taken the edge off of his hunger for the moment.

'Midnight snack? Breakfast? hmmm so many choices...' He thought to himself sarcastically. Why did he have to deal with this? Why him? It wasn't fair, what had he done? He slid back down onto the floor thinking of the 'what ifs' he wished his life was.

'If wishes were fishes, the oceans would be overflowing onto the land and people would die.' It was a phrase that his mother liked to say, albeit it was changed a bit from the original. He thought it sounded better her way, more realistic. It still hurt to think about her, but it was moments and sayings like that that made remembering worth it and put a smile on his face.

He spent the next 2 or so hours reminiscing good times that they had had before everything changed.

His mind flashed through his 3rd, 4th, and 5th birthdays. They had been fun. He had gotten a deck-of-cards nightlight, a collection of poems by Robert Frost (though he technically wasn't supposed to read them yet...) and they had gone to the park and just enjoyed spending time with each other.

Then things began to change, but at the moment, he glossed over those memories and just thought of the good times. He remembered his Kindergarten graduation. The school plays that he had been 'unwillingly' coerced into joining. Sitting for hours with his parents just listening to them read aloud. Attempting to throw the baseball around with his father. Even though Spencer didn't like it, he liked spending time with his dad and this was what his dad liked to do so he played and joined the T-ball team.

He fell asleep with the final good times running through his head, the hugs, the games, the trips. In his memory, he was 7. It was a rare moment of clarity for his mother, so they decided to take a whole family trip to the chess tournament the was happening 10 minutes away. It had been so fun, the smiles, encouragement, tips, and family had been amazing. The day ended too soon. As did the memory.

As he was sleeping, the memories of the next few weeks snuck in from his subconscious. His mother had gotten worse, a lot worse. He tried to understand what was wrong with her, but he couldn't, he was missing a piece of the picture. Everybody was. Nobody could figure out what was going wrong. Finally his dad took her to a hospital. She had protested every step of the way. It hurt Spencer to see her that way, in so much pain, the confusion so prominent in her eyes. She had been in the hospital less than 3 days before she passed. It wasn't peaceful, in her sleep as William had hoped. Nobody told Spencer the details, but he wasn't allowed to see her in the funeral home. He was told that he wouldn't want that memory, that he should remember how she was in life. He whimpered in his sleep, cringing at the memories but unable to wake.

Things had really changed after the funeral. Not immediately, but slowly, over the course of the next 6 months or so, his father became more and more distant, blaming Spencer for anything that was wrong or out of place. Spencer began to withdraw into himself more, cut off ties with his sports team, the drama troupe, even his chess opponents. His teachers saw the change but attributed it to the loss of his mother and his academic brilliance. He was lost. Scared. Confused. Nobody understood what he was talking about, the school counselor was no help. He was worse, he pretended to care, to understand, to empathize. Their first meeting Spencer asked him if he had lost a parent, if he was always was 2 classes (at least) above his classmates? When he got no response he walked out of the office.

The school had called home that day to inquire about him. William had assured them that Spencer was fine, just going through a transitional period, letting his emotions catch up to his intelligence etc. Spencer had been eavesdropping on the conversation. For the first time, he truly wondered if his intelligence was a good thing or a curse. 'Is what's happening my fault?' He had wondered. That day, the seed of self hatred and guilt was planted. That was also the first time his father had hit him. Spencer never eavesdropped again after that.

Spencer woke from the memory/dreams with a start. He wiped his eyes, catching the stray tears. He curled up on himself and chased elusive sleep. He wanted the waking nightmare to end.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3 JAD I still own nothing and could use suggestions of where to go with this..._

Sleep eluded Spencer for the rest of the night. He couldn't get comfortable or calm enough despite how tired he was. His nightmare memories were too vivid. He finished the sandwich and waited for morning to come. Time moved too slow. The dark lasted too long. Spencer couldn't stop jumping at any slight noise that the night made. He tried to convince himself logically that it was the pipes, or the wind, or a tree branch tapping on the window, but the irrational part of him couldn't stop imaging the worst possible things. The unknowing of what was out there, along with the inherent absence of light was why he didn't like the dark.

Finally, morning arrived, he could tell that it was getting lighter outside and the birds began to chirp. He figured that he would be let out soon, his dad usually went in early to his job as a lawyer. Of course, that meant that Spencer walked the 2 miles to and from school each day, but he didn't mind the walk. In fact, most days he actually met Emily outside her house and they walked the rest of the way together.

He grimaced when he thought about her, wondering what he was going to be able to tell her about the weekend that was actually good... He was going through the weekend, trying to find something good when he heard his father start moving around up stairs. He perked up when he heard his father come down the stairs until he was right outside the bathroom. He heard the lock click and his father went back upstairs.

Spencer quickly exited the bathroom and went to his room. He checked to make absolute certain that his father wasn't in before he closed the door and proceeded to get ready for school, getting dressed, attempting to tame his hair, and gathering up school papers. He figured if he got to school at least 5 minutes early he should be able to finish the homework that he hadn't had a chance to do over the weekend. It wouldn't take him that long.

He grabbed a quick bite to eat and was out of the house before his father came back downstairs. It was about 6:45. He started off towards Emily's house, estimating that he would get there in 15 or so minutes. The fact that there wasn't a more direct route between their houses really bothered him sometimes but he couldn't change that so he let it go.

"Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

the courage to change the things I cannot accept,

and the wisdom to hide the bodies of those people I had

to kill today because they pissed me off."

He smiled and chuckled softly at yet another of his mom's favorite quotes. He remembered the look on people's faces when they heard her say that. They took her seriously after they heard that. his family used to laugh at that, but now, quotes like that were rarely mentioned and definitely not laughed about...

Spencer let his mind wander as he walked until he got to Emily's street. His face instantly got brighter and he walked with more spring in his step at the prospect of seeing his friend's smiling face. He only stuttered a step, his earlier thought of what to tell her that was positive about his weekend re-invading his mind. He pushed it away, deciding that he would deal with that when it came up.

He got to her house, the 7th house on the street at about 7:05, he had been slightly off in his calculation due to extremely frustrating and stubborn light that refused to change as he had crossed the highway. He went up to her door and knocked quietly. Emily's mom called for him to wait a minute and she'd be right there.

He backed up a respectful distance and waited for the door to open. He fidgeted a little bit, hands in his pockets... hands out of his pockets... tucking his hair behind his ear... adjusting his glasses... hands back in his pockets. Ambassador Prentiss opened the door, and seeing who it was gave him a slight smile.

"Hello there Spencer, I hope your weekend went well. Emily! He's here!" She talked as she walked away, continuing to get ready for her day at work. She was perceptive at her job, but not so much in her own home, she never saw the signs of abuse and Spencer had had Emily promise not to tell, he didn't want to get in trouble with his father and he didn't want her to get hurt either.

Speaking of Emily, at that moment she walked out of the kitchen, holding two clementines and two bagels. He gave her his trademark half wave and grin. She was wearing her hair up as usual and she had on her normal jean shorts and a blue t-shirt. She gave him her brightest smile and handed him a clementine and a bagel. He nodded his thanks

"Hey Spencer! Bye Mom! See you later!" She called to her mom. She got the normal response 'bye, be careful, I'll see you later, I love you.' Spencer's eyes got sad at the last three words but Emily pretended not to see it. They walked out of the house and began their walk to school.

They spent the first 5 minutes eating and walking. They finished and Spencer couldn't put off talking anymore or Emily, who was always really perceptive would tell that something was bugging him.

"So how was your weekend Em?" He asked.

"Pretty usual, mom spent a good chunk of it talking to politicians and other blah blah boring stuff. So I pretty much spent it doing homework and watching TV. Still no word from my dad though, it's been like 5 months now, he's never been this long without calling us or writing." She responded. He watched the almost imperceptible emotions rush across her face, anger, disappointment, disgust, and worry. The worry lingered for a while and Spencer didn't interrupt her train of thought. He could tell she wasn't really 'there' at the moment.

Finally she shook herself out of it and brought herself back to the present.

"Speaking of weekends, how was yours? I doesn't look like it went very well..." She went to brush his hair out of his face, in doing so she revealed one of the better hidden bruises.

"Average. Didn't really do anything special... Oh! I translated Harry Potter into Latin! I almost finished the series then my dad got home..." He trailed off he'd already gone into more detail than he had planned.

Emily knew what her friend's sudden silence meant. Her eyes filled with pain for her friend. He didn't deserve this kind of life, he deserved so much better. She wished that he would let her know what happened, everything, so she wasn't guessing and imagining the worst. She could tell by his walking that he was hurt beyond what she could see. However, he didn't really want to talk about it so she shrugged it off, following his example.

"You'll have to tell me it sometime! Rowling is my favorite author! And dad was beginning to teach me Latin, maybe I can pick out words that I know, or you could teach me!" She said excitedly, trying to take both of their minds off of his father and his injuries. He was grateful for this and again he found himself wondering how he ever got through the past few years without her as his friend.

"Do you want me to start now?" He asked. Normally, he would be embarrassed to be 'showing off' his memory but not with Emily, she appreciated him.

"Sure!" She said and he began his recitation and didn't stop until they got to school. She enjoyed just listening to him and was sorry that it had to end.

_Thanks everybody for the reviews and favorites! I never thought that so many people would read this! Constructive Criticism is welcome and I'm open to suggestions for where to go with this!_


	4. Chapter 4

_JAD Chapter 4 _

Spencer and Emily drop their bags off at their lockers which are conveniently right next to each other. They go to the library to wait before first period starts. They greet the librarian who knows them very well. They go to 'their' table, near the window in the non-fiction section. Very few people besides them ever go there. They sit and talk about what they have in class that day, they only have two classes together, art and science. Spencer finishes the homework he wasn't able to do over the weekend.

"Oh no!" Emily said suddenly. Spencer jumped and looked around then followed her gaze. She was looking at her schedule planner. He relaxed.

"What?" He asked, figuring that she had forgotten an assignment or something.

"We have a test today in Spanish! I completely forgot! I'm gonna fail it!" Emily looked crestfallen. Spanish was one of the only languages she had ever had an issue learning, which was kind of ironic, it was so simple! She didn't tell Spencer, he had enough domestic issues already, but grades, especially bad grades, were one of the only things she got noticed for. That and being on time to events... It wasn't the kind of attention she wanted.

"Well, I could help you study in art, that's before the test." He suggested. She looked slightly less deflated at the offer.

"If you don't mind I'd love to, woohoo for last minute cramming!" She said the last few words dripping in sarcasm. Spencer was a little confused at first, he realized she was joking and nodded his appreciation before suppressing his secondary round of confusion. He had never needed to 'cram' before a test.

The first period bell rang and they both jumped a little before picking up their bags. Then walked out into the hallway and had to go their separate ways to first period. Emily had English and Spencer had math.

Once he had turned a corner and Emily was out of sight he began counting down.

'5...4...3...2...1...' And he heard them, right on time. Just his luck. He ignored them and continued on his way walking faster as he approached his classroom. He almost made it.

"Hey Angel! Where you off to so fast this morning?" The voice of Chester sneered at him. Spencer cringed away as a hand was placed on his shoulder but the grip only tightened. He heard the footsteps of at least 2 other students backing up the ring leader.

"He asked you a question!" Another voice chimed in, Harold this time.

"Yeah dumbass!" Parroted the third member, Jerry. Spencer really didn't like these three but there was no avoiding them, it was as if they had radar or something that enabled them to pick him out of the crowd. He was spun around against the wall so he was facing the group.

"Well? Where ya rushing off to?" Chester's face was inches from his own, he could smell the older boy's breath. It was hard to believe that the group was only two years ahead of him.

"Fir-first period. M-math." Damn that stutter! He studied the floor pattern as if it had suddenly changed from every other day. His bag was grabbed away from him.

"Hey! Gi-give it back!" He reached for the bag, but he was a good head and a half shorter than all of the others. They held it over his head, rummaging through it, de-organizing the compartments before stealing a notebook and dumping the contents all over the hallway.

"Here you go!" Chester said with a laugh. The other joined in.

He went to pick his papers and pens up and was tripped. He fell flat on his face, barely able to catch himself with his arms. His wrist throbbed a bit upon impact and it seemed everybody was laughing at him. His face was burning with embarrassment as he crawled on the floor trying to gather all of his papers and notebooks back into his bag. The warning bell rang and most of the students scattered to their various classrooms, some kicking his books further away from him as they passed.

He finally collected all of his papers and books, pencils etc and he realized that the older kids had taken his math homework. Again. The late bell rang and he ran to his class almost tripping over his feet again. He tried to be as discrete as possible closing the door as gently as possible behind him. He didn't go unnoticed however.

"Spencer! You're late! _Again_!" Mr. Thomson reprimanded him. Some of his classmates snickered, because when it was Spencer who had the teacher's attention they wouldn't have to focus on math.

" 'M s-sorry sir. I was... I mean...well... sorry." Spencer trailed off, speaking to the floor as he walked over to his seat. He really didn't like Mr. T. The feeling was mutual. Mr. T didn't like having students who could outthink him and Spencer was one of them...

"I don't have time for your excuses and if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to teaching my class. I hope everybody has remembered their homework from the weekend!" He addressed the class, drawing a groan from the majority. Spencer slunk down into his seat in the back.

"Well, hand it in! Even if it's half done, it still counts more than if you don't hand anything in!" Mr. T directed the class towards the class inbox at the front of the classroom. Chairs scuffed and papers rustled as most students went to hand in their work. Only Spencer and Garret were left seated and Garret hadn't been in class Friday to receive the assignment. Mr. T noticed this, he was by no means a stupid man.

"So, are you too good for homework now Spence?" He spat at his student. Spencer cringed and knew that there was no good answer for this question.

"This is the fifth time this month! You need to get your act together." Spencer wished that he wouldn't do this in class, not in front of his peers at least... He reddened and pretended not to hear the verbal jabs coming from all around him. Mr. T allowed himself a small internal smile of success and continued on with the lesson.

Spencer already knew the content of the lesson so the questions he was asked, trying to trip him up were answered with ease. This infuriated Mr. T but he didn't let it show. The lesson ended with him assigning more homework to be done by the next day, again the class groaned but all picked up their worksheets on the way out.

"Spencer wait behind for a moment." Mr. T told him. He watched his classmates file out the door, wishing that he was anywhere but here at the moment. Finally, they were the only ones left in the classroom.

"You are a brilliant student, I'll admit that, but you are no different status-wise from the other students. You are expected to do the same work as the other students. If this happens again I will report you to the office and you will have to deal with the consequences, as it is I'm calling home today. You need to learn one way or another." Mr. T stated matter-of-factly to Spencer.

Spencer was terrified. His father was scarier than any principal or teacher he would think of. He felt his heart beating faster and it was all he could do to prevent himself from completely breaking down. However, he nodded to Mr. T.

"I-I... It won't h-hap-happen again, s-sir." Mr. T nodded his dismissal and led Spencer to the door. He had 1 minute and 26 seconds to get to his next class, art. He rushed out of the classroom and didn't run into Chester, Harold, or Jerry. It didn't matter though, he was still shaking as he sat down in his seat next to Emily. She frowned, knowing that something had happened. The bell rang and the teacher told them to continue to with their projects from last class. This gave Emily and Spencer a chance to talk.

"Spence? What happened? Something's wrong." The last sentence was a statement, not a question. He shook his head, he didn't want to worry her.

"Tell me Spence! I'm your friend! Let me help you!" She pleaded with him. She hated seeing him like this and without knowing what was bothering him, she couldn't help him. He was frustrating at times, but she was going to stick around anyway. He took a deep, shaky breath.

"Mr. T's gonna call home cause I missed 5 homeworks, but I've never actually NOT done the homework, I just... I don't lose it, I don't misplace it, it's not my fault! It's not fair! I mean, what does _he_ want with my homework? He doesn't even have Mr. T as a teacher... And Mr. T can't call home! He just can't!" Spencer's expressive eyes told the rest of the story, the fear reaching to the deepest parts of him. Emily's heart broke for him. And she felt helpless to help him. So instead she just hugged him, as if this temporary support would keep him from future pain that she couldn't prevent.

She couldn't even think of something to say to take his mind off of his worries. 'Well, what am I supposed to say in response to that? "Yeah when you get home today your dad's going to beat you black and blue, so... how bout them Yankees?" Yeah right...'

She decided to just let his mind go where it was going and if it seemed too bad she'd pull him back to the present somehow. She wished life was simpler, that her friend didn't need to bear this burden. She started suddenly with a realization...

It was only second period, Monday morning... This was going to be a long, bad, week...

_Thanks again for favorites and reviews! Please give me some feedback, where should I go with this? Constructive Critizism is appreiciated as well._


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